


Petite Mort

by Riachinko



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Beating, Blow Jobs, Choking, Figging, Flashbacks, Foreplay, Gags, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Situational Humiliation, Socks, These tags tho lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 15:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10856451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riachinko/pseuds/Riachinko
Summary: LeFou wakes up tied to the bedposts, and it seems like Gaston has a bit of an interest in torturing him in the best ways.





	Petite Mort

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [In Our Bedroom After the War](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10604352). You don't reeeally need to read it first, but it might help you plug in some details.

LeFou woke up bound and tied to the bedposts.

He first noticed when he moved to wipe the sleep from his eyes and found that such a thing was impossible - and then came the pain. His forearms prickled with numbness, his hands felt cold and sore.

How long had he been like this?

His wrists were bound to the headboard with a thick braided hunter’s rope with itchy stray fibers poking into him, and his feet were held to the footboard with the same. With little exertion, LeFou found that struggling against the restraints was useless; both the knots were too tight, and his arms were too numb and tired.

He felt suddenly claustrophobic, and began to panic.

“G-Gaston?” he shouted. “Gaston!?” 

His voice rang out embarrassingly high-pitched, and he was almost glad that Gaston wasn’t around to hear it.

Taking one deep breath, and then another, LeFou willed himself to relax as much as he could against the bed. He’d managed to sleep through his bondage, after all, perhaps he could do so again until Gaston came back to him. He felt disgusting, though; his face felt dry and strange from the mess of the previous night’s event. His lower body was sweaty and sticky.

He cringed. He’d been far too tired and far too careless the night before to tidy up.

He bit his bottom lip. 

It’d been worth it.

His cock twitched with arousal at the remembrance of Gaston coming undone above him, shivering and dripping sweat, flesh pinkened and hot. He breathed sharply through clenched teeth as he looked down at himself; getting hard without even being touched, feet tied, splayed helplessly naked on Gaston’s bed like meat on a platter.

At last - the pattering of heavy boots against the floorboards could be heard, and grew louder by the second. The bedroom door swung open suddenly, and Gaston strode into the room without looking at LeFou at all.

“Are you out of your mind!?” spat LeFou, fire in his blood giving him the strength to shake against the rope in another attempt to free himself. “Gaston! What is this!?”

“Good morning, LeFou!”

Gaston placed a leather satchel on the chair adjacent to the bed - the same one to which he’d been bound the night prior. LeFou’s cheeks heated, and his cock sprang to life once more. 

Oh.

“Are you-- is this some kind of payback?” LeFou spoke thoughtfully. He’d failed to see the parallels between this morning and last night, before, but this was Gaston: he could absolutely believe that Gaston would think this was equal treatment for what had been done to him.

Gaston finally looked towards him. His hair was perfect as usual, save for the stubble along his chin that had grown thicker and more plentiful seemingly overnight. He wore a dapper red vest and his favoured style of gathered tunic...He’d clearly bathed, which annoyed LeFou. 

Gaston smiled warmly at him, though his eyes were half-lidded and seemed to hide the darkness of ulterior motives.

“I suppose, a bit,” he grinned, eyes flashing down LeFou’s body to his half-hard cock, “but it looks like you’ve been enjoying it well enough.”

LeFou frowned. “I thought you liked last night.”

Gaston smiled, still, removing an apple from his bag and tossing it playfully in the air.

“Very much so! In fact, it’s given me ideas of things I’d like to try on yourself, if you’ll indulge me.”

“I should be so lucky,” LeFou rolled his eyes. “Well, my arms are awfully sore. I wish you’d taken that into consideration before you tried something like this…”

With a savage bite of the apple, Gaston made his way to the bed. The shift in weight against the mattress caused LeFou to topple towards the man, and he gasped at the tug of the rope chaffing against his wrists and ankles.

Gaston removed a dagger from his belt, and for a moment LeFou’s eyes widened in fear, heart racing. He calmed when Gaston wedged it underneath the rope that held his right arm and pulled, effectively cutting him free. He did the same to the opposite arm’s rope, leaning over LeFou as he did so; the frills along the neck of his tunic tickling LeFou’s nose. The fresh smell of him enchanting.

Once loose, LeFou clutched himself, folding his arms across his chest and flexing his fingers into fists and back in an effort to return circulation to them. As soon as Gaston had cut his feet free, LeFou curled into himself and rolled against where the man sat on the side of the bed.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“You didn’t like it?” Gaston asked, placing the apple on his nightside drawer, and LeFou just about died. His friend was being sincere.

“Gosh...no…”

He rubbed at his arms, the prickles in them finally beginning to subside. He moved to lift a hand to examine the crud under his nails, when Gaston took his hand into his own. LeFou froze and looked up, muscles reflexively tensing; wide-eyed, mouth agape.

It was delicate. Gaston rubbed his thumb over LeFou’s fingers and bent down to press his lips against each knuckle in tiny kisses. He continued downward, pressing his lips to the backside of LeFou’s hand, his wrist; starting a trail down his forearm, when LeFou laughed.

Gaston looked up, a wave of annoyance washing over his features very briefly before he smiled back.

“What’s wrong?”

LeFou laughed again, a soft pant of amusement. He licked his lips. “What’s wrong with _me_? I’ve never seen you so affectionate, that’s all.”

“...And…”

“I like it,” LeFou smiled, letting his eyes slip partially closed. He yawned. “What time is it?”

“Something past ten.”

LeFou jumped, rolling around to sit up on the bed but failing due to his friend being in the way. He finally leaned back onto his ankles to get his balance. 

“Ten!? I’ve got to get to the market!”

“Already been,” boomed Gaston as he picked up the remainder of his apple and took another bite. “In fact, I bought a lot of things that I think you’ll enjoy.”

He held the half-eaten apple to his friend’s mouth, and LeFou pouted, but took a bite from it regardless, knowing it was expected of him. Its juice dribbled down his chin - running its way through his five o’clock shadow - and Gaston caught it with his thumb, brought it to his lips and sucked it away.

“Gaston…” LeFou panted out.

He was flustered. He had no idea what was happening to him this morning. This was an entirely different side of Gaston - sure, he was always charismatic and charming, but not like this. This was deliberately flirtatious and alluring...This was Gaston _trying_ to turn LeFou on.

And it was working.

His erection was once more revived, harder now than before. He shifted his weight on the bed to accommodate it. The sheets were askew from last night’s sleep, and LeFou’s feet got tangled in them as he tried to get comfortable. As soon as he fell backwards onto the mattress, Gaston was predatory, leaning over him, removing his own vest and shirt and tossing them carelessly to the floor.    
  
Once topless, Gaston hunched forward. He nuzzled his face into LeFou’s neck, pressing warm lips just below the man’s chubby jawline and sucking. His stubble tickled, and LeFou chortled softly as Gaston dragged his tongue up to LeFou’s earlobe and bit lightly, causing a cry of shocked pleasure from his partner.

“Oh! Gaston--” LeFou suddenly looked at him with serious concern. “Y-you’re going to dirty your pants, I’m...I couldn’t bathe.”

Gaston sighed and looked up in annoyance. Still, he rolled off of LeFou and unbuckled his belt, kicking off his boots in a hurry as he removed his trousers and knickers. As he bent, he noticed the stockings that LeFou had worn the previous night and scooped them up, balling them together and throwing them at LeFou on the bed.

LeFou grabbed them and knitted his eyebrows together.

“These are soiled,” he said, confused.

“So are you,” Gaston smirked, darkly.

LeFou’s face was red, he was sure of it. He was hot and sweaty; he could feel it in his ears and cheeks, and he could feel his cock straining at Gaston’s words, begging to be touched.

Gaston crawled atop LeFou, but he didn’t flip him around onto his stomach, didn’t stop beneath his hips, as LeFou was so used to him doing. Instead, the bed complained under his weight as he made his way to straddle LeFou’s shoulders. It was a tight and awkward fit, Gaston bracing himself with one hand against the wall, and the other gripping his erection, stroking himself slowly, right against LeFou’s lips.

LeFou simpered and darted his tongue out as far as he could to lick the tip of the man’s member, slick already with the dew of precum.

“I assume this is what you’d like?”

Gaston cast his eyes downward, dark lashes nearly hiding his gaze. “You were so good at it last night.”

LeFou licked his lips, then, and opened his mouth wide to allow Gaston to push inside. He didn’t have much room to move his head, so he bobbed forward as much as he could and left the rest of the work to Gaston. The weight on his tongue was absolutely welcome once the man’s cock had made its way in, and hearing no sounds of protest, Gaston began to thrust. Shallowly; slowly at first, testing LeFou’s ability to receive him, then proceeding at a steadily quicker pace. 

He thrust in deep, until he could feel LeFou’s uvula brush against him, and he held himself there while the man beneath him choked and tried to move his head away for breath.

“Ugh,” Gaston gasped above him, “you sound good, choking on my cock.”

He pulled out and did it again, breathing heavily.

“ _Fuck_ …”

He pushed himself suddenly up off of LeFou, breaking in a hanging trail of saliva and precum; bracing himself against the headboard for support. LeFou coughed and panted, looking at his lover with tears in his eyes and a stuffed, pink nose that threatened to drip at any moment.

Gaston smiled, “Look at you, you’re a mess.”

From the side, he leaned in against LeFou and licked a stripe up the man’s salty cheek, kissing where the trail ended. He played idly with LeFou’s hair and brushed it away from his face. 

“Are you ready for more?”

LeFou’s mind was foggy, already overwhelmed by unimaginable lust. He nodded in agreeance, finding his throat dry and stinging and unable to speak.

Gaston grabbed LeFou’s leg and lifted it, flipping the man slightly on his side. His ankle hooked naturally over Gaston’s broad shoulders, and he grabbed a pillow to cling to, propping himself slightly up on his elbows. Gaston spat on his fingers and brushed them clumsily against LeFou’s backside, snorting when LeFou let out a soft moan and edged his hips closer, grabbing his thigh to lewdly expose himself further.

“So you are...” Gaston purred.

He adjusted his position just enough to be able to push himself into LeFou with little trouble, rocking himself into the hilt as he groaned and LeFou whimpered in unison. He stayed that way for a moment before pulling back - almost completely removing himself - and then snapping his hips back to meet LeFou’s soft, damp flesh. Gaston clutched tightly to the leg slung over his shoulder as he repeated the process again and again.

“Gaston--!” LeFou gasped, clenching his teeth and burying his head in the pillow beneath him.

It was painful, but almost delightfully so. LeFou knew it was always better when he was able to pump himself to the rhythm that Gaston set, but when he snaked his hand downward to attempt relief, Gaston gripped his wrist and kept it just out of reach of anything good.

“Not yet,” the man choked out.

LeFou moaned. His heart raced to hear Gaston so affected; his strangled, aroused voice like music echoing through the room alongside the wet slick sounds of skin against skin..

Gaston released LeFou’s wrist, then, but repositioned himself so that he was pressed closer to LeFou’s stomach, and there was no conceivable way for LeFou to pleasure himself. They stayed connected while they moved, and when Gaston was satisfied with the angle he continued fucking into LeFou at a quick, ragged pace.

He leaned forward to nip at LeFou’s neck, sinking his canines into him, licking and sucking the small wound he’d left. 

LeFou cried out in a series of breathy pants, chest heaving as much as it could under Gaston’s weight.

“Oh, _God_ \--!”

Gaston grinned, closing his eyes, leaning his forehead against LeFou’s.

“Tell me,” Gaston huffed, hot breath dancing against damp skin. He ran a thumb alone LeFou’s jawline and continued, “Do you like it when I’m rough, LeFou?”  


. **:** **:**.

There were plenty of people who were jealous of LeFou. But it wasn’t because of they way he looked, nor because of any of his crafting skills or his surprising tolerance for hard liquor. Nobody - so far as he knew - envied him for his patience, his strong moral center, or anything having to do with himself at all. But what LeFou knew as an absolute truth was that people _did_ envy his closeness to their captain. 

It was frustrating, being confident in himself and knowing that nobody cared. But having the great Captain Gaston see something in him - well, that was something else.

Recognizing that he was the topic of jealous chatter amongst the troops, LeFou in his darker moods would flaunt his friendship in front of them openly. He stayed close on Gaston’s heels at all times. Sat beside him in the mess hall, brought him beer when they had free time in the nearby villages. He gave Gaston back rubs and sneered at the onlooking soldiers when Gaston closed his eyes and lolled his head back in pleasure.

He knew that his behaviour was petty and childish, so when he found himself in the barracks one evening, cornered by a group of four angry comrades, he almost wasn’t surprised. 

“You might think we’re not on to you, _fool_ ,” one man spoke, “but we all know you’re only over-compensating so that you can trick the Captain into keeping you around.”

“What a sly devil, you are,” spoke another man, tall and intimidating with a scruffy red beard and bulging muscles. His voice boomed as he approached LeFou, more closely than his friends, and gave LeFou’s shoulder a harsh shove. “Why don’t you let someone more capable take your place?”

LeFou fell back onto his cot from the shove, catching himself with the palms of his hands and using the spring of the bedding to push himself back up.

“That’s never gonna happen,” LeFou defended. “Perhaps if you got to know me, rather than gossiping, you’d see why the Captain has such an interest in me.”

The men sneered in unison, and one who had remained silent to this point came forward to push him again, holding his right shoulder down.

“What could Captain Gaston possibly see in _you_?”

“It’s not fair, yeah? You couldn’t even shoot a turkey to save your life.”

The first man grabbed hold of his left arm, and LeFou was effectively pinned to the cot. He struggled against their grip, but even as he did so, he knew it would be fruitless. He thrashed his legs shallowly until he was able to shake free just enough to knee one of the men in the collarbone, and connect one boot heel with another’s gut, sounding thickly with a thud.

LeFou’s eyes flew open the moment it happened, “I’m so sorry!” he gasped.

The looks on all four mens’ faces was the same: shock and outrage.  
  
It didn’t take more than a second for one man - svelte, with thick sideburns and burly hands - to react by taking a swing at LeFou, placing a sharp blow square to his face.

“Dummy! Don’t strike him where the Captain can see!” whispered one of his assailants, but the damage was done. 

LeFou felt the pain splinter across his face; his cheek ached so horribly that he could feel it in his teeth, but it was his nose that had gotten the brunt of the hit. The scrunched his face to try to subdue the tingling numbness that was overwhelming him with worry. His nose was running and he sniffled; with no way of knowing for sure, he suspected that it was wet with blood.

“I--” LeFou panted for breath while the men above him snickered.

“Can’t be helped, I guess,” spoke another man quietly, and then they were on him again.

A strong punch was laid into his gut, and LeFou coughed and spat - there it was, definitely blood - while he was slapped and hit once more in the face. LeFou moaned and recoiled. It was apparent that they had no intention of beating him badly enough to prevent him from doing his daily work or being on the battlefield, for they stopped there, sneering down at him. Admiring a job adequately done.

To end the torture, the first man who had spoken - the one who had initiated everything - leaned in close, holding himself up against the wall while looming over LeFou, casting him in shadow. LeFou closed his eyes and flinched as the man above him spoke.

“Know your place, yeah?”

The man ran a thumb along the reddish-purple of the bruise that was blooming along LeFou’s jawline, and he released another breathy moan. There was no mistaking it; he could tell, as soon as his eyes flew open, wide with embarrassment and fear, and saw the other men’s looks of surprise. It hadn’t been a moan of pain.

“Do you like it rough, ya goosecap little shit?”

And then as they jeered around him, another soldier entered the room suddenly, and the men scattered.  
  


. **:** **:**.

He did. 

It was sickly satisfying; a coping mechanism, maybe. He’d certainly been pushed around enough in his life to warrant one. So, greedily, LeFou squeezed his eyes shut and nodded enthusiastically. “ _Mm-hm_!”

Gaston’s teeth ran over LeFou’s chest, leaving thin pink lines in their wake. 

“Good.”

He stilled, balls pressed firmly to LeFou’s buttocks, giving LeFou time and space to touch himself, though he didn’t dare try. The stockings that had remained discarded near the headboard were gathered and balled up once more, and stuffed into LeFou’s open, lolling mouth.

The knit fibers of LeFou’s stockings dried his tongue, and he grunted  in protest. His brows came together angrily over top of slitted eyes, unable now to verbalize his discomfort, but he conceded as Gaston pushed into him again. He smoothed his thumbs over the buds of LeFou’s nipples, earning an instant jolt and grunt of pleasure in response. LeFou’s back arched, he pressed against Gaston desperately - every bit of Gaston he could reach, he wanted on him.

The room became insufferably hot. LeFou was sure he was going crazy.

The gentle attention that Gaston was paying to him - unusually tender touches scattered throughout the intoxicating roughness - was sending him over the edge; the man’s hands kneaded at LeFou’s chest, massaged his forearms. Thick, long fingers flitted down his arms until they landed upon LeFou’s to lead them to his own weeping erection.

“Mmph--” LeFou moaned, not managing to say Gaston’s name properly, but the man could hear his name in the muffled sound anyway, and laughed.

“No woman would put up with this like you do, LeFou,” he cheered softly. “Touch yourself.”

He did - _oh, god_ , and it felt great. Finally be able to - being _told_ to - do the one thing he’d longed for all nearly since Gaston strode into the room. He gripped himself tightly, rocked his hips against Gaston at a whipcrack pace: the larger man stuttering his hips violently into LeFou from above, snapping against his partner with bestial abandon. Every flick of LeFou’s wrist brought him closer and closer to completion, but it was Gaston’s next words that brought him there fully.

“I want to see you finish, calling my name. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

He came, making his best attempt at mouthing each syllable of Gaston’s name past the stocking gag, over and over again, eyes screwed shut and completely absorbed in the feeling of feeling full, Gaston thrusting slowly and deeply still, but coming to a stop with a final breathy grunt.

LeFou was a mess again.

Two nicely-drawn stripes of white across his stomach, pooling at his bellybutton; smeared when Gaston leaned down to meet LeFou chest-to-chest.

His chin nestled to LeFou’s collarbone as both men breathed deeply - LeFou perhaps moreso, given the gag that prevented him from spilling embarrassing words of admiration and foolish love. Gaston licked at the bite mark he’d left at his partner’s neck.

And left another one just below it.

LeFou’s hands flopped helplessly against the blankets, and the gag was removed.

“You’re the best,” he breathed against LeFou’s glistening skin; damp - but so was he - and warm.

LeFou worked his tongue around his mouth, seeking moisture and exiling a piece of lint. He licked his lips; reached weak, shaky arms up to draw Gaston’s face close to him and kissed him. It was hard and messy, with teeth clashing - LeFou usually opting for soft, sweet kisses, and Gaston usually hesitant to kiss anywhere but the other’s body - fueled by whatever lust remained and hadn’t yet been spent.

_You’re the best_. Gaston said it often enough - an ambiguously pleasant statement that told LeFou he was liked - perhaps admired - in at least _some_ way. But for the first time he felt right in replying. 

“I know.”

. **:** **:**.

LeFou did end up going to the marketplace after all, after a much-needed bath. It was a relief to be clean, though he still felt shamefully - deliciously - dirty. 

He set out alone, as Gaston saw no need to go to the market twice. People would question him, and he would never concede that he had forgotten an item or - in this case - had neglected to buy anything that was necessary at all.

He _had_ bought apples, ginger root, eggs. He’d brought home a small box of goods from the bakery in town square. But not nearly enough to sustain them for the week. So LeFou had set out, and Gaston had alluded to making preparations for the evening. LeFou hadn’t questioned him; they were presumably heading to the tavern for dinner.

Gaston was presumably going to look for female companionship for later in the evening. 

And he would stay home; maybe waiting up, maybe not.

This morning had been fascinating to him. He never would have imagined that Gaston would have taken his efforts in stride; accepting his perversions and even adding to them. Putting an effort into trying something new, and caring for him afterwards. Unbelieveable. 

He made his way through the crowd - Monday mornings thankfully were not particularly busy - greeting whomever nodded their head his way with a pleasantry. 

“Monsieur LeFou.”

“Madame Cantin.”

He knew everyone here, and everyone knew him. Villeneuve was a pleasant village. Simple. Reliable in its monotony. But for as safe and comforting as it was...LeFou felt restless.

He purchased fresh vegetables - broccoli, corn, parsley, potatoes. Tripe from the butcher. Milk and black tea and red wine. He stopped by the local blacksmith and made sure Gaston’s hunting dagger was sharpened: they had a hunting trip coming up, and at this point, LeFou was simply busying himself with chores to distract from the feeling of needing to run back to Gaston’s side.

He sat in the town square for some time, nibbling a sweetbread roll that he’d purchased. It was a beautiful day, really. A little bit on the cool side, but it held a beautiful crisp blue sky for him to behold. 

Several young boys in uniform were at play outside of the schoolhouse. It was loud. He was still fairly exhausted from both the night prior and this morning, and he found his patience tried simply sitting in the midst of it all. Once one too many elderly women had greeted him; once one too many _young_ women had asked where Gaston was, and finally, when the brilliance of mother nature couldn’t surpass the brilliance of his thoughts of Gaston - naked and slick with sweat, hovering above him, breathing hotly, inches from his face - LeFou decided it was time to head home.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon now, and arriving home, LeFou was surprised to be greeted by Gaston, sitting by the fireplace, coolly sat in a chair, whittling something.

“Gaston..?”

“LeFou, my friend!”

He didn’t move from his seat, but his smile was peaceful and infectious, and LeFou beamed back at him as he made his way over to the fireplace as well. Gaston seemed to want to hide whatever he was whittling, and placed it in a cloth beside him.

“Will you be starting dinner soon? I’m famished,” he said, voice booming.

LeFou’s brows perked up. “You won’t be joining a young lady for dinner at the tavern tonight?”

Gaston straightened in his seat, chin resting in one of his large palms. 

“Not tonight, LeFou, though I wouldn’t mind us making our way down there later in the evening…” He flashed a toothy smile, oozing that Gaston charm that LeFou was used to, but never tired of. “We’ll dine in tonight.”

LeFou nodded, smile widening now to reveal a dimple and the slight gap between his front teeth.

He got to work nearly immediately, having decided on a simple vegetable stew - it being too late in the day to start his planned _tripes à la niçoise_. Ingredients would need to be chopped and diced, water would need to boil. He set a pot above the fire and waited.

  
  


Gaston sipped the last broth of his stew from his bowl directly as LeFou watched with a smirk and playful eyes, sipping the remainder from his spoon. The tea he’d purchased complemented the meal nicely, though he’d been eager to finish it and head to the tavern. The evening was still young, though the spring’s sun had begun to set already. Gaston set to lighting candles and rekindling the fire as LeFou took the dishes to be cleaned.

He didn’t have time to get far in his work, however, as toned arms enveloped him soon from behind.

“Let’s not deal with these for now,” Gaston cooed, taking the plate LeFou held and placing it down, hand dropping to his waist and drawing him closer. “We want to get to the tavern at a modest hour.”

LeFou nodded; allowed for his eyes to slip closed, to feel Gaston’s solid form pressed against his back.

“Gaston!” LeFou chided, then, the other man’s arms having slipped down to hold LeFou’s thighs, his groin needily digging into him from behind. LeFou tapped at Gaston’s arms, tilting his head back to hum against the neckline of Gaston’s tunic. 

“Did you have something that perhaps you wanted to do before we head out?”

Gaston laughed softly, chest vibrating.

“I'll buy you a drink if you undress and wait for me on the bed.”

LeFou bit his bottom lip but he couldn't hide the filthy grin that had started to spread. 

"I don't need any incentive to do that, _mon chéri, Capitaine.”_

He did as he was asked, for the most part; the chill in the air persuading him to leave his stockings on. He removed his top, waistcoat and jacket; folded the former two pieces carefully and laid them neatly on Gaston’s chair, though he draped his jacket over his shoulders for warmth. 

He could hear Gaston in the main room, stomping around, shuffling, and when he finally joined him in the bedroom, he was topless as well and carried the same cloth he'd been seen with earlier by the fire. 

LeFou sat on the bed cross-legged, wiggling coyly, eyes dancing over Gaston’s bare chest. The man raised a proud eyebrow, basking in the attention as he closed the door behind him and approached the bed. 

LeFou liked this side of Gaston. For once, he was calm and unpredictable and irresistibly loving, rather than tense and unpredictable due to a flare in his temper. 

Gaston stood tall and imposing at the foot of the bed. His very presence commanded LeFou to watch as he unfastened his belt, untied the drawstring at his fly, leaving his hands resting against his hips with thumbs threaded through his belt loops. 

“Go ahead, you can tell me how much you like what you see, LeFou.”

LeFou scrunched his nose quickly, smile growing wide across his face. “I love it. I love what I see…”

He shook the jacket from his shoulders; repositioned himself to better lean forward on his knees, bed still unmade and making things difficult. When he reached out to stroke his fingers down Gaston’s chiseled features, the man backed away slightly, teasingly. 

“Come back, I want to touch perfection.” LeFou wore a faux pout, then added with a sly smile, “Let me please you so we can go get that drink.”

He grabbed hold of Gaston’s fly to tug him closer, Gaston stepping forward with a jolt. The man guffawed above him and watched his friend lower his trousers and knickers, leaving them pulled down and settled at his tightly toned thighs. 

He stood half-hard before LeFou, who wasted no time in scooching forward and placing his lips to the tip of his cock. He kissed and licked it gingerly before taking the full length into his mouth, Gaston settling one hand at the back of LeFou’s head and keeping him there.

LeFou hummed, nose flush to Gaston’s abdomen, buried in coarse, damp hair, and Gaston’s organ stiffened and grew larger and more persistent against his tongue. He flexed his tongue against the underside of the man’s cock, pressing firmly against it, moving tip to base, earning him a grunt of pleasure in response.

Gaston barely moved his hips as LeFou sucked, which was a mild nuisance, as the bedding and their position didn’t allow for LeFou to be as free as he’d like with his movements. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

“Hurry up and take what you want,” LeFou purred, and Gaston in turn, crawled onto the bed to join him.

LeFou laid obediently on his back as Gaston made his way on top of him, straddling his friend’s hips, causing LeFou’s eyes to fly open wide in a desperate gasp for breath. His erection was pressed against the curve of Gaston’s ass, and he wiggled weakly beneath the man’s weight, aching for friction.

He moaned softly when Gaston shifted his weight to one hand, placed to the left of LeFou’s head. He removed the yellow silken ribbon from his hair and let it fall, dancing along his shoulders, tickling LeFou’s cheeks. The sight above him was like candy, and LeFou inhaled deeply to catch the scent of the man’s hair.

“Shall we gag you tonight as well, I wonder?”

LeFou pressed his lips together in thought - idly looked down to the foot of the bed where he wiggled his stockinged feet. Though Gaston was starting to warm the rest of his body, his feet were still cold.

“I’d like to leave my stockings on if it’s okay…”

Gaston smirked, said, “I have other methods of keeping you quiet.”

And then he initiated a kiss - an honest-to-goodness passionate kiss on the lips - that LeFou was definitely not expecting. He reeled; melted into it, Gaston’s tongue sank in past his teeth and LeFou devoured him; sweet, heated. 

So, so, so sexy.

He purred and Gaston growled, and they stayed connected like this for several moments, roaming each others’ mouths with wet smacks and feral groans. But it wasn't long before Gaston’s neediness took over, pressed too sharply against LeFou’s gut to ignore.

“Gaston--”

Their small vial of lubricant still rested on the floor by the bed, and LeFou shifted, trying to wriggle free under Gaston’s weight to grab it. Thankfully, the man picked up on LeFou’s plan and removed himself from atop his friend to grab it, promptly unscrewing the lid and dousing his fingers with a generous amount of it. 

He slicked his cock with it first, and pressed the remainder against LeFou’s ass; pressing against muscle but not pushing in. LeFou keened under his touch, hissing through his teeth, and the bed made noise of protest as well.

Gaston was silent as he positioned himself beneath LeFou’s hips, lifting his partner’s ankles to hook around his shoulders - a position that was much more familiar to LeFou than what they had done this morning. He pushed forward against Gaston greedily, and taking the cue, Gaston thrust inside him unceremoniously. He grunted blissfully - loudly - at the tightness from the ring of muscle he’d just penetrated.

LeFou closed his eyes tightly. 

Yes, it was amazing, and Gaston was magnificent, and he couldn’t be happier - but his partner was rough and hasty and he thought he’d probably never get used to the abrupt pain of Gaston fucking into him like this. Maybe he didn’t want to. Still, he let an embarrassingly loud moan sail past his teeth, and Gaston chortled, pushing himself forward, and in turn, LeFou’s legs back farther so he could thrust in even deeper.

‘G-Gaston! _God_ \--!” he strained to get his breath; chanced looking through heavy-lidded eyes at the man above him: his features were impish, but his eyes burned with raw affection.

“ _Ah_ \--!”

The sheets skewed further off the bed as Gaston shifted to rest his weight on his left forearm, brushing his fingers through LeFou’s dark locks; grabbing at them and making LeFou hiss and cry and sing out a string of praise and curses. Beautifully.

Loudly.

“Shout all you can right now, my friend - you won’t be able to soon,” Gaston whispered hotly against LeFou’s hair.

He leaned down to nip at LeFou’s adam’s apple, and washed his tongue over this morning’s bite and bruises. His right hand fished its way between their bodies and he took hold of LeFou’s cock as he thrust hard into his ass. LeFou coughed and sputtered in surprise, throwing his head back messily against the pillows, gasping out when Gaston’s grip on his hair didn’t loosen.

The pace at which Gaston was thrusting and pumping against him was erratic at best, with little rhythm to it: just pure animalism. It was overwhelming. Strangely satisfying, that roughness. 

It was the thought of being so helplessly _wrecked_ that had LeFou drooling, sputtering, gasping, “Gaston! Gast-- Gast-- I’m going to--!”

And then without stopping his ragged movements, Gaston untangled his hand from LeFou’s curls and pushed himself upright. LeFou’s legs fell back even more; knees nearing closer to his chest with every one of Gaston’s deep pushes of his hips. Gaston looked at LeFou, and LeFou looked back, rosy cheeks and mussed hair and all.

And Gaston pressed his palm to LeFou’s throat.

LeFou’s eyes snapped open wide with horror, and he grappled at Gaston’s perfectly muscular forearm, trying to remove it. Predictably, the man was too strong to budge.

He pressed the wedge between his thumb and index finger just below LeFou’s adam’s apple and pushed softly up. It was then that LeFou realized that he wasn’t choking completely; he could breathe shallowly if he tried, and Gaston’s hand was still on his cock, so he wasn’t trying to hurt him.

And actually...it felt kind of great.

To have his domineering ex-captain on top of him, displaying the power he had for LeFou alone - not putting on a show for others. That was bliss. To literally feel him, holding his life under his palm. To submit to the man he was so utterly lost in and in love with.

That was what made LeFou reach his peak: trying to scream Gaston’s name and unable to, as thick streams of white splashed against his gut and onto his lover’s hand. Gaston came then too, with sharp snaps of his hips against LeFou’s, slowly steadying as he spilled into his friend and chased his climax through to its very end.

LeFou gulped in the fresh air as soon as Gaston’s palm was removed; eyes closed, panting peacefully. Absently sweeping the hair from his face; wiping the sweat off his cheeks.

They were still connected when Gaston asked, voice a low rumble, “Do you trust me?”

The echo of his own words from the night prior rang through LeFou’s ears.

“What do you have planned?” LeFou replied wearily with slitted eyes and a skeptical brow.

Gaston leaned back behind him, fishing through the blankets and sheets for the cloth he’d brought into the room with him. LeFou twisted; tried to see what was happening, but his vision was obscured by his friend’s figure. Gaston hummed in approval when he found whatever it was that he’d sought, and LeFou mimicked him.

“I want you to…” 

Gaston’s lips thinned as he thought of the words to say. LeFou even thought he saw pink rising to the surface of the man’s handsome face, and the fact that Gaston - of all people - was seemingly embarrassed to speak, absolutely piqued LeFou’s interest.

He withdrew a whittled object from the cloth, about three inches long; perhaps an inch wide. It smelled strongly of ginger - the ginger root that Gaston had purchased that morning as LeFou slept. It was curved, with an indented groove and a larger unpeeled base. Gaston held it in one hand and sucked the ginger oil off of the other before he cleared his throat and continued.

“You’ll keep this in while we’re out tonight,” he said simply. A command; no longer an inquiry of consent.

Keep...it in..?

LeFou’s cheeks turned cardinal red as realization hit him, breaking out into a light sweat. He bit his lower lip and nodded quickly, “Okay” leaving his lips without thinking.

Gaston slipped from him, then; a thin trail of cum leaving with him. He scooped up what he could with the tip of the root, and thrust it into LeFou, up to the groove, without warning.

It was excruciating.

It burned as soon as it was inside of him; worsened when his muscles reflexively clenched around it. Gaston gave his ass a pat once it was inside, and LeFou howled out in shock.

The man was on him immediately, tongue down his throat, sucking at his bottom lip, teeth grazing his chin. “If you relax,” he whispered, “you’ll feel better.”

The burning evolved into a strange tingling sensation, though the warmth never wavered.

Gaston’s hands pressed against him, kneading his pecs, rubbing at his shoulder and neck; LeFou gasping and moaning and writhing beneath him, sometimes with a little exaggeration for show, though his mind was hazy and he didn’t have it in him to puff Gaston up too much.

“Let’s get up, hm?” Gaston said finally, making to stand.

LeFou’s eyes strayed from the man to the bed, and he nodded. He took Gaston’s extended hand and was pulled to his feel with a jerk. LeFou huffed, mouth opening and closing uselessly as he got accustomed to the heat within him - that feeling of fullness, from both Gaston and the ginger root plug.

His legs were weak and shaky. He kept his mouth shut tight when he walked; tried to normalize his expression.

“Get dressed,” Gaston said cheerfully, slapping LeFou on the back. “Let’s go get that drink!”

 

. **:** **:**.

 

It as an average evening at the tavern with an average showing of familiar faces. The fireplace roared and musicians played familiar songs.

LeFou sat with Gaston, surrounded in the company of Tom, Dick and Stanley, and several other patron regulars. They laughed at Gaston’s jokes, and hung on his every word. And LeFou sat there with his stein in front of him, face glowing red, trying not to think about Gaston’s ejaculate leaking out of him. Trying not to scrunch his nose or flinch when someone would clap their hand on his shoulder or tug his arm and the sting of the ginger would shock him anew.

It was worst when Gaston would ask LeFou to fetch the lads a round of beer, and LeFou looked up at their expectant faces through thick lashes and glazed eyes and had no choice but to comply.

“Looks like you’ve had a bit too much t’drink already, am I right?” Tom laughed.

And LeFou smiled, cheeks feeling as hot as his ass, and nodded.

He stood, and he felt that twinge of hot arousal, glorious pain and fear at being caught, and he looked to Gaston, who simply smiled knowingly, bowing his head and raising his mug: unwanting to go home and unwilling to give LeFou an excuse to _just sit still_.

Through it all, he could see Gaston mouth the words at him: “ _You’re the best_.”

And LeFou died a little death, knowing it was true.

**Author's Note:**

> Duders! Chat with me on Twitter: riachinko or Tumblr: rudigerblues/riankoworks ⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )  
> Thank you to [@cakeboobs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeboobs/pseuds/cakeboobs) for being a great beta ❤


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